By Patrick Macias

Out of a sensory input node and evolutionary chart we appear, leaning on a bar on Meiji dori for hours soon after, strange quality of light in the sky above: rusted cotton candy low organ sound. Shopping bag and shuffling population, girl in an afro wig with a sales sign and relentless smile. Here a baby cart filled with tiny dogs: imperial army bullet shells strewn over the side of the pram as a decorative motif. We could go to the beach, but it’s all dried up and polluted there now. This place endlessly replicates and repeats itself for reasons unknown, some kind of automated process was turned on and just left there to burn itself out. Me too.

TORIENA earlier in a children’s playground. She hangs from the monkey bars and climbs up on the slide, parking herself there, pointed in the direction of assorted construction sites springing up all around. Two kids sit on a bench the whole time playing Nintendo DS, trapped in their tiny secret screens...